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The Great Collapse
---- The apartment was dark, heavy curtains drawn to prevent the sun from its insistent intrusion. Silence gripped the house like it was a sickness. Life had long been deserted, the houseplants left to decay, dirty dishes stacked in the sink and nothing in the pantries or fridge. The bedroom was in a similar state, clothes, papers, and garbage covering the floor like a carpet. Curled beneath the covers of a rumpled bed was Levina Yamashita, the imprint of her body sunk deep into the mattress. Days worth of oil clung to her darkened hair and sallow skin. She stared blankly at the ceiling. Dark circles had settled under her eyes, her sleep schedule so irregular, she could spend anywhere from an hour to fifteen hours sleeping. Levina’s phone continuously buzzed throughout the day though she made no move to pick it up. Work, friends, family, nobody could reach her. She didn’t doubt her position had long since been taken up by somebody else. Her family members had resorted to knocking on the door yesterday but she couldn’t be bothered to get up to tell them to go away. A different tone chimed from the device this time. Unlike the rest, this caught her attention, dull eyes regaining a glimmer of energy. She picked herself up, reaching to that device and reading the message. Levina stood up, the dirty uniform that once fit her perfectly hanging off her body as she trudged to the bathroom. She showered quickly, wiping away the grime as best as she could and changing into the best clothes she could find. Levina left the apartment, phone in hand, weaving through the streets of Astalya to a downtown office building. She entered the elevator, tapping the button for the 15th floor. Mechanical whirring filled the silence as she waited. She was wary, but more than that, determined. This was a chance to change something. To make Mary’s death mean something. The elevator doors opened and Levina walked calmly into an abandoned floor of cubicles. She let her breathing slow as her eyes scanned the space. There. The quick scuff of a shoe against the floor. Levina reacted instantly, drawing a handgun while a shock of lightning incapacitated the body. She heard it slump against the floor and rounded the corner, the gun trained on the skull of Lucas Galta, the assassin she hired. “Give me one good reason not to cuff you and take you in right now.” Her voice is far stronger than she’s felt these last few days, confidence and adrenaline causing her exhausted mind and body to spark to life. Lucas’ face pressed into the carpet, his body laying awkwardly in a state of paralysis. He was wearing a dark suit and Levina noticed the silhouette of a gun beneath his jacket. He looked up at her, amusement, not fear in his eyes. “If you were going to arrest me, you wouldn’t be here alone.” Levina tenses her jaw, the lightning coursing through his body momentarily flaring as she lost her focus. "I don't think you're in a position to make assumptions. Who's to say I don't have somebody waiting around here?" “I’d think that you cops did better research.” Lucas grit his teeth through the pain of an electric shock. He wriggled slightly until he made eye contact with her. Her hand began to shake. The gun moved from its position trained to him, upwards until the barrel settled under her chin. She bristled with fear, her finger toying with the trigger, though she had no control over the action. He was playing with her. “Most people forget, but the body is primarily made of water. If you learn how to use your magic right... anything is malleable. Although you know that too don’t you?” "What do you gain from killing me?" She makes his heart palpitate, the missed beat proving ineffective for anything but a scare, to prove she knew what he was talking about. "If you're gone, its one less scumbag I have to worry about." "Would you believe me if I said I was a good man trying very, very hard to be a villain?" Levina's hand dropped. "No," she says flatly. "Good people don't make themselves out to be public menaces by murdering the chancellor of Isenberg. Did you come here to assassinate the president?" A shock of anger crossed Lucas' face before it returned to its casually composed nature. "Miss Yamashita," he smiled brightly, "We both know why I am here today." Levina's mouth opened, though she could offer nothing but a small breath of air. She released the lightning from his body, holstering her gun. She ran her hands through her hair to try and get some semblance of control but felt reason slip from her mind as easily as the strands of hair from her fingers. "You're good at what you do, yes?" Her tone had shifted entirely, confidence giving way to desperation. Lucas got on his knees, rotating a shoulder and cracking his neck as he stood, then straightened his tie. He smiled. It wasn't the type of smile an assassin should possess. It was genuine, warm, kind, horribly mismatching the darkness of his occupation. "You know my reputation and you saw what I did to you. Besides, if magic doesn't work out, I've always got a piece." He said, drawing a gun from inside his jacket. He frowned at the motion, putting a hand to the empty holster. "I think it bruised my ribs when you had me down." Levina frowned at his smile, feeling no such compassion. She watched as he pulled the gun out, wondering briefly if she might ever get the chance to see it used. The thought of one of the bullets embedded into Haywood's skull caused her heart rate picked up again. He would be gone. Mary's death would be avenged. Her thoughts are momentarily stalled when he mentions the pain in his ribs. "I would say I'm sorry, but I'm not really," she says, before recollecting herself. "Jeremy Haywood, an assassin responsible for numerous deaths, including that of my fellow officer, Mary Vause. He takes lives without any regard, makes examples out of people who get too close." Her fist clenched and she takes a breath in, fighting for control over her emotions. "Price means little, I just want him gone." "How fast do you want it done?" Lucas was all business, contemplating the information he would need to locate him and how quickly he could accomplish it. This sounded like a job that needed to be done face to face. "I want him out before he can even attempt another job." She spits the last word, her body buzzing with hatred despite the blond before her having the same occupation. To rid the world of Mary's killer, she would need more than a set of handcuffs and an empty jail cell; she needed Lucas, a power unrestrained by laws. He looked at her almost sorrowfully, accounting for the anger and pain in her tone. Lucas dug a cellphone out of his pocket, typing with one hand. "And, what do you want for proof of death?" Levina hesitates at this, wondering what gruesome trophy of sorts she might obtain from the deceased. "Your word," she decides, finding herself not wanting to ask for anything else. Any further reminder of the man would only ensure his legacy remained. Mary deserved to be remembered, not that bastard. "Okay," Lucas holstered his gun and put away his phone. He extended a hand, "I'll let you know when it is done." After a brief handshake, Lucas strode to the elevator, pressing the button. He hesitated, looking back at her. "Miss Yamashita, do you want him to have a painful death?" The elevator doors opened and Lucas got inside. "He has long surrendered the right to a peaceful death. Make him suffer for the deaths he caused." The elevator doors close, descending slowly as evident as the bright red numbers ticked down. The room was silent, causing her mind to begin to torment her. Everything about this was wrong and yet, she would make no move to rescind her request. Death for death was the justice he deserved. ---- A small lamp was on, bringing with it a faint yellow hue, though the rest of the house was doused in darkness. Levina was crouched over her desk, staring at the blankly at the wood, eyebrows drawn together. Everything, from the moment she left that apartment some days ago, had begun to crash down on her. All the work she put in, every good deed and smile, was a farce, a facade that was coming down around her. No good person could have another killed, and thus, she had never been a good person. She had paced around her apartment tirelessly, too nervous to leave the building to go for a run. The gun on her waist was a burden, a promise, and an escape, though she would never make a move to use it. Every bit as troubling was her phone, which had buzzed incessantly with messages from everyone but who she wanted to receive a message from. From her spot at the desk, she could see little except the glossy shine of the black-stained wood. She would give anything for these past two weeks to never have happened, to have Mary by her side and brightening up her day. Heavy was the heart of the lonely, and truly, Levina had never felt lonelier, the echoes of her now-empty apartment haunting her. She wondered if Lucas ever felt the same guilt when he took a life, if he ever felt lonely when his loyalties must be far and few between. She had never felt the isolation of a criminal before and suddenly she didn’t understand how she lived her whole life demonizing them so frequently. Her phone chimed a different tune this time and her head instantly shot up, staring at her phone. It was a simple text, the deed was done, and she felt both relief and anxiety fight in her mind. Jeremy was dead, Mary was avenged, but the prospect of returning to work after this seemed so far out of reach. How could she when she had someone’s blood on her hands? It was sickening, that she had stooped so low as to hire an assassin to do her job for her. She stared at her phone, worrying, speculating, wishing. It was sometime later she had fallen asleep, head resting on the desk. She wasn’t sure how long she was sleeping when somebody started banging on her apartment door, loud and incessant. She startled awake, looking around before pulling out her firearm and getting up, walking towards the entryway. She got to her living room when the door swung open, several moderately armed policemen spilling into her house. Rivera stood at the head of the group, gun trained on her chest. He looked disappointed and it was enough to set her on edge. “You have the right to remain silent,” he begins, and its soon after everything gets fuzzy. Her gun is taken and she’s handcuffed, Rivera continuing to recite her rights as she’s led to the elevator and down to a squad car. People gawk at her and she can only imagine their confusion. She was one of the most respected officers in her city; what business did her co-workers have apprehending her? They led her into a familiar questioning room. She had always been on the other side of the table, not the one cuffed to it. Only Rivera and Price remained in the room with her. Watching her. She stayed silent, though her brain was a cacophony of thoughts. The weight of her actions began to weigh heavier on her. "Officer Ya- I mean, Miss Yamashita, you know why we brought you in today." Rivera said. She sits in silence, not having the strength to look him in the eye. She nods shallowly instead. "Jeremy Haywood was murdered with a blade, whether it was magical or man made is currently unknown. We are searching your apartment for a knife matching the incisions." Rivera lifted a hand to his face. "I didn't think you could be this sick Yamashita, cutting a man's thighs and tying him to his bed so he bled out slowly? That's cold-" His rant was cut off by a knock on the door. He stepped outside briefly. When he reentered his face had changed and in his hand was a cell phone. Her cell phone. "So you didn't kill him. You hired another sicko to do it." Levina continued her silence, knowing she didn't need to say anything, as no questions were asked. Some sort of satisfaction comes from knowing Jeremy suffered but she does well to hide it. Despite the anxiety she had felt hours earlier, she felt nothing but a calm settle over her now, a stoic expression conveying nothing of her previous turmoil. The silence was overwhelming and Rivera's temper spiked. He slammed his hands against the metal desk, the surface rattling from the impact. "Do you have anything to fucking say about what you've done? Huh?" "Patience never was your strong suit, was it?" she asks, the faintest hint of life shining in her eyes. "Are you my replacement?" Rivera ignored the dig, "So you're not denying it? You ordered a murder?" "I don't believe I've said anything about the matter. I'm innocent until proven guilty, or are things different when you're in charge?" "We have concrete evidence. We have your phone and your messages to Lucas Galta a known assassin who murdered Chancellor Stravas and Jeremy Haywood and many many others. We have more than a case waiting for you in court." "You have reasonable doubt," she argues, feeling her resolve wane under his scrutiny. "How desperate are you to get me out of the picture?" Before Rivera replied, Price cut in. Her voice was softer, more disappointed than angry, "It's not about that and you know it." Both Levina and Rivera opened their mouths to speak but before they could, the sound of chaos began from outside the room. It was the sound of gunfire. The door opened. Bang. Bang. Bang. Three shots. Blood spurted from Rivera's shoulder and he crumpled from the shot to his knee. Price was luckier, with only a bullet through her ankle. Both found themselves suddenly unable to reach for their guns as Lucas Galta, in the same dark suit with a mist of blood flecking across his right cheek, entered the room. He holstered his pistol, stepping over Rivera's body. Water surrounded his hands and he put them across the cuffs. They quickly froze, cracking apart. His face held no trace of a smile and he had similarly dark circles under his eyes. "Let's go." Levina watched as the officers fell, the blood pooling on the ground beneath them causing her heart to pang. She hesitates to get up, knowing she deserved to face the justice her crimes wrought. He repeated himself more clearly and she got up, following him out of the precinct. More police officers, crippled, but not dead. She passes by, fighting the urge to help them. "What are you doing?" She is finding it hard to imagine why he might rescue her. Maybe he planned on killing her away from public attention so that he could continue his work in peace. "Like I said-" Lucas ran his fingers across the blood on his cheek, the moisture dissipating until it was only rust to brush away. "-I am a good man. And you made a mistake in hiring me. That doesn't mean you deserve to die in jail." Lucas hailed a cab, lightly pushing Levina inside before himself. "Astalya City Airport, please." Levina sat in silence, the hum of the engine the only sound in the car. She thought about telling Lucas he was not a good man, as good men didn't kill, but she figured it would do little to sway his opinion. They arrive at the airport shortly thereafter, Lucas continuing to usher her about. "I deserve justice," she says, stopping in her tracks. "As do you, but I no longer have such jurisdiction. Even if you are a good person, I am not. What do you plan on doing with me?" Lucas laughed lightly, the noise escaping from him as if it was strangled under the weight of his chest. "I really don't know. Maybe getting you a new identity is a starter. Now come on, I've got to get us through security." Through the convenience of a Marshal's badge under the name of Stephan Drake and his oozing charm, Lucas and Levina rushed through security without as much as a check for weapons. He managed to commandeer seats on a plane with an act about a wedding to attend in Stella, and before Levina knew it, Lucas had conned their way through the entire rigorous process of security within the airport with almost practiced ease. "How the hell...?" she whispers, now seated in an airplane headed two countries over. "This is definitely more trouble than its worth. Are you crazy?" "Quite possibly, but this is much nicer than jail isn't it?" "Yes, it is," she says quietly. The tension she had felt was gone now. She found it hard to focus on anything but the dull beat of her heart in her ears. Questions for the blond man were fleeing her mind. "What's in Stella?" she asks after a long pause, the energy she once had in the interrogation room dissipating rapidly. "My favorite safe house." Lucas yawned. He hadn't slept much since he met her. The first thing he did when he left was cross reference the name Jeremy Haywood and its connection to the death of any cops. It wasn't that hard to connect the dots from there. Her attitude had made the hit seem personal, but the murder of her best friend was more personal than he had initially anticipated. "You know," Lucas said suddenly, slumping his head towards her, "I don't really like killing people. But there is something satisfying in knowing that I ever so often get to deliver justice. The inescapable kind." Levina didn't look at him, wanting to forget the man beside her. "Killing others isn't justice," she says, finding no conviction behind her voice despite how often she had made that same claim to criminals. "There is no justice to be found in your lawless ways," she adds, almost strained. Jeremy's death was justice, and she would never be able to shake that thought, no matter how strong her morals were. Lucas stayed silent, watching her for another moment. He remembered a time when he tried to tell himself the same thing. It was different when you found yourself on the other side of the law. It was no longer black and white, the world turned to shades of gray and Lucas clawed through that numbing gray every day. "Try to get some sleep. It's a long flight."